Imbroglio
by Cora Clavia
Summary: AU: Castle and Beckett in the world of classical music. Yep. Rick Castle, Barihunk.
1. Chapter 1

An AU story: what if they were all classical musicians?

* * *

IMBROGLIO

She was half-asleep on her couch, book sliding down her lap, when her phone rang. It was Roy, calling from the music school. "Kate? We got a last-minute call for a sub. You know the Lalo _Symphonie Espagnole_, right?"

"The first movement? I could play it in my sleep."

"One of the high schoolers from the academy is playing in the city competition tomorrow and I guess her accompanist flaked out an hour ago. She's in a panic. The dad's offering double your usual fee, and if you're free, you two can practice tonight. You in?"

Well, tomorrow was supposed to be her day off. But one student? Manageable. "Sure. Where and when?"

"She said seven. I'll text you her address. Says she's got a piano at home."

She hung up, scrubbing a hand over her eyes, and set the book aside. No reading tonight, then.

* * *

Her dad's watch said 6:56 when she got to the address Roy had sent. The building was nice. Really, really nice. The doorman politely held the door, and the equally polite man at the front desk asked for her name and checked a list before pointing her towards the elevator with the apartment number. Okay then.

Finally certain she was at the right apartment, Kate raised her hand to knock. But before her hand hit the door, it swung open to reveal a man with blue eyes, brown hair and a ruggedly handsome face that had been in every issue of _Opera News_ for the past year and a half. She froze, fist poised in mid-air.

"Kate Beckett? You're Kate Beckett? Hi." He gave her a firm handshake, flashing bright white teeth and sparkling eyes. "Richard Castle. Thank you so much for doing this last-minute. We were getting a little panicked."

Kate swallowed hard. Because he didn't seem to realize that she'd seen him before. She saw him as Figaro just three weeks ago. Even got his autograph. Stood outside the backstage door of the Met for an hour so he could sign her program. "Um, yes. Nice to meet you, Mr. Castle."

"Please, call me Rick." He grinned, opened the door. "Piano's right through here."

The piano was inside the music room; it was a Steinway baby grand, bright and polished and littered with scores. _Le nozze di Figaro. Il barbiere di siviglia. Billy Budd. Susannah._ Even _Wozzeck_.

"Why don't you get yourself settled? Let me go get Alexis."

He handed her the Lalo score and disappeared up the stairs.

The music room was gorgeous – gleaming wood floors, a large desk, a comfortable chair. Warm golden lamplight. And the shelves. Oh, the shelves. Kate almost gasped. Floor-to-ceiling shelves filled an entire wall, loaded with scores, books, CD's, records, and videos. Operas. Oratorios. Musical theater. Art songs. Concerts.

Kate set her bag down and pulled out her pencil, flipped open the Lalo on the music rack, but she kept eyeing his music. It was just sitting there, right on the piano, just inches away –

Oh, what could it hurt?

She bit her lip and snatched up the Rossini score from the piano, flipping it open, thumbing carefully through the pages until – there. _Largo al factotum_. Figaro's famous aria. It was riddled with pencil markings – translations, arrows, phonetic symbols for pronunciation. Even a sloppy scribble that looked like _fuck all_ next to the last high G. She chuckled.

"Ah, digging in my opera stash, are we?"

Kate gasped, her head snapping up. He was standing in the doorway, arms folded. He was grinning.

Her face got hot, and she set the music back guiltily. "Uh. Sorry. I was just – "

"No, no, it's okay. One of my favorite roles. I just finished a run of it over at the Met." He ran a hand through his hair. "Great production."

She nodded, trying not to look too excited. It really was a great production. And he – well. She didn't _not_ enjoy his shirtless scenes.

A pretty red-haired girl hurried in, violin and bow in hand. "Hi! Are you Miss Beckett?"

"You can call me Kate. You're Alexis, right?"

"Yeah." The girl beamed, tightening the bow and fitting on her shoulder rest. "Thank you so much for doing this. Kyra was going to play, but she just called this afternoon. She sprained her wrist. So Dad said he'd find someone to replace her. He called the school and begged Mr. Montgomery."

"And he called me."

"Why don't I go make myself scarce so you two can practice," Rick offered. "I'll be in the living room if you need me, pumpkin."

He left and Alexis rolled her eyes. "Just so you know, he's sitting there listening to every note."

"Of course." Kate tried valiantly to ignore the tingle that slipped through her at the thought of _Richard Castle_ listening to her play. Richard Castle. Wow. "Let's get you tuned and run through it, okay?"

* * *

She shouldn't have been surprised. Of course Richard Castle's daughter was talented. Alexis was good. She was really, genuinely good. She was also remarkably insecure.

The girl sighed, dropping her right arm to shake out her wrist. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I know I'm playing that muddy, and I swear I had it perfect just yesterday -"

"It sounds amazing, sweetheart." Kate turned around to find Rick leaning through the door, beaming proudly. "You're going to be great tomorrow."

"Dad, no, stop it. I'm not - " Alexis sighed as her dad came over, ruffled her hair.

"You're playing perfectly. Now stop fussing. You don't want to overstress." He kissed the top of her head. "You sound wonderful."

"Thanks."

"Good." He patted her shoulder affectionately. "Now run your trouble spots one last time and tell Kate thank you for being here."

* * *

After profuse thank-you's and a hug, Alexis bounded upstairs, her red hair swirling around her shoulders.

Kate quickly tucked her pencil and water bottle back into her bag. "She's good. Very talented."

"Yeah, she is." Rick was still watching the stairs, his face beaming with pride. Her heart pounded. He was a proud, proud father. It was - really sweet. "She's a hard worker."

She turned, looking for her jacket - where did she put it? - but instead of producing it, he set a hand on her arm. She had to stop herself from flinching. He smelled good. Really, really good. "You don't have to run out, do you? Why don't you stay for a bit, have a drink?"

She opened her mouth, fully intending to politely decline, but somehow he managed to relieve her of her bag and steer her neatly towards his kitchen, where he produced a bottle of red wine. "So, Kate Beckett. Tell me about you."

She felt a flush rising in her cheeks, because _Richard Castle_ was chatting her up. In his home. How was this even happening? "Uh - what do you want to know?"

He shrugged. "Anything. Where you're from. Who you studied with." His eyes sparkled as he grinned. "Your favorite color. Whether or not you like walks on the beach."

Kate blushed hot behind her wineglass. He was flirting. Pretty brazenly. Most singers had big personalities - it took balls to stand alone on a stage and sing an aria - but she hadn't really thought he'd turn all that charm on her. "I did my BM at CCM and my MM at Indiana."

"Nice." He nods. "You're good."

"Thank you."

Kate took a long sip (and of _course_ it was amazingly good wine), hoping the glass hid her flushed face.

"So, at the risk of being called Don Giovanni, any chance I can interest you in dinner sometime?"

Luckily she'd just swallowed a sip of wine; otherwise she might have choked. As it was, Kate froze, her whole body tensing. "I don't - think that would really be appropriate." Right. Inappropriate. He shouldn't be asking her to dinner. Or giving her wine. Or flirting with her. Or shooting her those smoldering little glances that kept making her look at his mouth. Stop it. No.

* * *

She managed to excuse herself and leave quickly. Castle was tremendously, maddeningly gracious, holding her coat for her to slip her arms into. His hand brushed her neck and she had to bite her lip.

"Good night, Mr. Castle."

He flashed her a dazzling smile. "It's been a _pleasure_, Kate. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow."

* * *

Kate got home and settled back on her couch. Her book was still where she'd left it on her coffee table. She picked it up, her face flushing. _Sex, Drugs and Opera: the Perfect Storm,_ by Richard Castle. His stories were scandalous - the backstage antics, the sexy times during sitzprobes, the cast parties, the champagne and glitz and high life. The book briefly dealt with his marriage to that flighty little soprano - he'd avoided her real name, but everyone in the business knew exactly when he'd turned little-known, largely incompetent _soubrette_ Meredith Harper from his pregnant girlfriend into his wife, only to get divorced three years later when he walked in on her having sex with her voice coach.

Since then, Meredith had slid back into relative obscurity, while Rick's career had blossomed. _Opera News_ had done a huge article on his rise to fame, detailing his childhood as the son of Broadway star Martha Rogers, his conservatory years, his stunning upset victory to win the Met's young artist award. He was known as "the bad boy of opera" for a reason, and he wore fewer shirts than almost any baritone in the business.

And half an hour ago, he asked her to dinner.

She set the book aside and curled up on her couch with a glass of red wine - which she couldn't help but notice wasn't as good as his - leftover mushu pork, and the DVD she'd picked up last week. Covent Garden's production of _Don Giovanni_. Starring Richard Castle. Of course.

She debated for a long moment, but - oh well. It's not like he'd ever know.

* * *

a/n: Will do my best to update in a reasonable time frame. As long as real life lets me.


	2. Chapter 2

In the competition room the next afternoon, Alexis spent an uncomfortably long amount of time rosining her bow, examining the frog, examining her bridge, adjusting her shoulder rest, until Kate finally tapped her on the shoulder. The girl looked up with big, startled eyes. Kate knew that look - the brittle, pre-contest look. Skittish. Tension building up in the shoulders.

"Alexis." The girl looked up, startled. "Set your violin down for a second, okay? I think some low breathing will help ground you. And stretch out a little."

"Right. Right." Alexis blinked. "Here, hold these for a minute."

She handed Kate her violin and bow and shook out her arms, leaving Kate holding an instrument that probably cost more than her bachelor's degree did.

While Alexis stretched, Kate gingerly held the violin and bow. Castle came bustling in, holding water and an extra copy of her score. "Sweetie! How are you feeling? You ready to rock and roll?"

The girl swallowed, taking her violin back from a relieved Kate. "I think so."

"Great. You're gonna be great, Pumpkin." He kissed the top of her head.

Three judges filed in quickly, settling at the table across the room. One of them smiled faintly. "We'll just need a few minutes to get set up, Miss Castle."

The judges murmured quietly to each other, setting up pencils and scoresheets, and Kate leaned over. "Alexis. Go hug your dad."

"What?"

"Just trust me. Set your violin down and go hug him, okay?"

Alexis obeyed, setting her instrument atop the piano and trotting over to her dad. She wrapped her arms around his waist and he hugged her back without hesitation, pressing a kiss to her hair before letting her go with one last whispered instruction.

She came back to the piano, picked up her instrument, and looked at Kate with flinty new determination in her blue eyes. "Can I have an A, please?"

* * *

And of course she played beautifully.

Outside the room, Alexis all but threw her instrument back into her case and ran to hug her dad, who was beaming. "Sweetie, sweetie that was _wonderful_. So great. I'm so proud of you."

Kate stood nearby, awkwardly holding her accompaniment book, but before she could politely excuse herself, Alexis turned back to her. "Thank you, Kate. Thank you so much."

"Great job, Alexis. You played beautifully." Kate chanced a look at the girl's father - Castle was beaming at _her_ now, a warm look on his face, and she felt her cheeks getting warm.

"You're good, Kate. You're really, really good."

"Uh – thank you."

Alexis flung her arms around Kate in a tight hug; she was beginning to see that this small family was extremely comfortable with physical displays of affection. "Will you come to dinner with us? Please? I want to thank you for being so awesome and doing this last-minute."

Alexis fixed her with such a winsome gaze, so hopeful, that Kate just couldn't bring herself to say _no_. "Well, all right."

"That's wonderful, Kate. Why don't I just call the car?"

She shot Rick a glare, and sure enough, he had a smug look on his face. Asshole. Letting his _kid_ ask her out so she couldn't say no. Clever, Rick. Real clever.

But -

- having dinner with _Rick Castle_. And his kid.

"Please?" Alexis prodded.

Kate sighed. Oh well. "Well - all right."

* * *

Kate was half expecting some embarrassingly upscale French restaurant, but Castle surprised her; he leaned a little too close in the car and asked if she liked Ethiopian food. She stammered assent, distracted because his thigh was pressed up against hers and her nostrils were filled with the rich scent of his cologne.

They walked into a place called _Lielit,_ and Kate had to admit - it was perfect. Small and out-of-the-way and warm. The staff greeted Castle and Alexis by name, taking them to a quiet table near the back. The furniture was beautifully carved and designed, the walls hung with colorful Ethiopian folk paintings.

As a friendly waitress brought them food, Kate found herself actually relaxing. The Castles were fun. Alexis chattered like a jaybird - being an only child with a gregarious, famous father, she probably picked up social graces without trying, Kate figured - and in spite of her worries, in spite of his infamy as a womanizer, Castle was genuinely pleasant. He was polite, charming, and at one point he even draped his face with injera and warbled _When I Am Laid In Earth_ in a chirpy falsetto. Kate laughed so hard her eyes watered.

After they were all stuffed with delicious food, Castle insisted they give Kate a ride home. And normally she'd say no, but she was full, and tired, and still smiling, and damn it, he was so stupidly charming in person.

"So - Kate, I wanted to ask." Alexis was sitting between the adults this time; she turned to face Kate, her blue eyes wide and curious. "Why did you tell me to hug Dad?"

Kate chuckled. "You were pretty tense. Hugging someone contracts your muscles, so then they release and you're looser."

"Huh." Alexis nodded. "Do you do it before you play?"

"Sometimes."

"Cool." She turned back to her father. "Dad, you should try it."

"I might." He shot Kate a teasing look. "Of course, I'd have to find someone willing to help. Can't just start grabbing stagehands, can I?"

Her face got warm but she refused to take the bait. No. She wasn't going to let him get to her. Even if now she was thinking about slipping backstage into the darkness of the Met, grabbing his hand, dragging him into a corner, and - _relaxing_ him. And -

No. No. _Stop it_. Student's father.

_Get a grip, Beckett._

* * *

The towncar pulled up outside her building, and Kate tried to assure them she could walk twenty feet from the curb on her own, but Castle insisted on walking her to her door.

It was...oddly sweet. But she drew the line at letting him carry her messenger bag. So he simply stuffed his hands in his pockets, walking beside her slowly. "Nice night."

She nodded absently, digging through her bag for her key.

"I want to thank you again, Kate. Thanks for stepping in last-minute. And for putting her at ease."

She looked back up at him, startled. This wasn't what she expected. He was smiling at her, but not his dazzling, toothy, _Opera News_ smile. It was real. Genuine. He was a dad who was proud of his daughter.

"It was no trouble."

"Can I call you?" Kate froze. "For her next recital, I mean."

She shot him a withering look, but his eyes were sparkling.

"You can call the school anytime, Mr. Castle."

That made him laugh. He ran his hand through his hair, shifting easily on his feet. "I'll certainly do that."

She pulled out her key and wondered how to politely tell him to go away. But he was ahead of her even there, taking a quick glance at his watch, looking back up at her. "Well, Alexis and I have to be getting home."

"Right. Thanks for the ride."

"It's no trouble at all."

She reached to shake his hand, but he surprised her. He caught her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it gently, his mouth warm on her skin.

Her face went hot, her lips parting involuntarily. He was so very gentle, and oh he smelled so _good_ -

He let her hand go and straightened up, his eyes bright as they met hers.

"Very, _very_ nice to meet you, Miss Beckett."


	3. Chapter 3

a/n: I should point out that though I am a professional musician, I'm in a somewhat different field than this one. So don't take my word as any kind of authority here on the NYC opera scene. This is pure fiction.

* * *

Monday morning saw her walking into the music academy, books in hand. Roy poked his head out of his office. "Morning, Kate. So. Lalo this weekend."

"Yeah. It was fine." It was Richard Castle. It was Richard Castle plying her with wine and then blatantly hitting on her. But Alexis was a good kid, the competition went well, and honestly, she enjoyed herself.

"I figured it was."

"I'm sorry?"

"It seems you have a fan."

She blinked. "A fan?"

"Richard Castle. Seems he was very impressed with your skills. He came in early this morning looking for you. I sent him down to your office." Montgomery smiled, ignoring her obvious discomfort. "He should be there now. Assured me he was happy to wait for you."

Of course he was.

She sighed, shouldered her bag, and braced herself.

Sure enough, he was settled in the chair outside her office where students usually sat waiting for coachings. He visibly brightened when he saw her, his face lighting up in that absurdly handsome smile that she _hated_ because she really desperately wanted to hate it but just couldn't. "Kate! Good morning."

"Mr. Castle." She gritted her teeth. "I didn't expect to see you again."

"I'm glad I could brighten your day." He reached to shake her hand but she managed to sidestep him, unlocking her office door. Of course he followed her inside.

"So is this a social call, Mr. Castle -"

"It's _Rick_ - "

"- or is there something I can do for you?"

He twitched an eyebrow upwards playfully, and her face got hot. _Damn_ it. She didn't mean it like that.

"Well." He smirked. Yeah. He knew. "Actually, yes. I wanted to talk to you."

Kate settled in her chair and naturally, Castle sat on the couch. He wasn't leaving anytime soon. And she hadn't even had coffee yet.

"I'm doing a recital this spring. I want you to be my accompanist."

"You _what?"_

"You're good, Kate." He fixed her with a serious look. "You're incredibly good. You've got the touch I'm looking for." She glared at him. "On the piano, I mean."

Kate clenched her jaw. Because - because he might have actually been onto something. She knew her best field was larger repertoire, bigger pieces, more lush, orchestral accompaniments, and she knew his voice. He wouldn't be drowned out. They might actually make a good musical team.

But -

"You work with better pianists than me every day."

"I don't think that's true. I talked to Roy and he said you're the best. I've talked to some other people who've heard you and they all say the same thing. And you impressed me this weekend."

She sucked in a long breath. She didn't know what to say.

He seemed to sense it. "Look, you don't have to answer me this minute. Some time this week? We could get coffee. Talk over specific terms. Look at repertoire."

"I - guess so."

"Great." He reached for a post-it on her desk, fishing a pen out of his breast pocket and scribbling something down. "Here's my cell number. Call me, all right?"


	4. Chapter 4

Three weeks later, Kate found herself in a coffeeshop near the school, stirring her coffee as she told Lanie, "I'm working for Rick Castle."

Lanie stared at her. "Wait. Shirtless Rick Castle? Barihunk Rick Castle?"

"That's him."

"Girl." Lanie set her Popper etudes aside and folded her hands. "_Girl_. How?"

"His daughter." Kate sighed. "I played for her competition last-minute, and he - was impressed."

"Of course he was."

"_Lanie_ - "

"I don't mean like _that_. Well. Not just like that." Lanie laughed. "I just mean you're good. He recognized it. I'm not shocked, here."

"Thanks," Kate told her wryly. "Besides. I'm not his type."

"A little lipstick wouldn't hurt."

"_Lanie._"

"I'm just saying. Anyway," Lanie chirped, smiling beautifically and setting her cello case a little further into the corner. "Go on. Tell me more about how you dazzled him with your wit and talent and absolutely not the fact that you're hot."

* * *

"How do you feel about _Songs of Travel_?"

Kate shrugged. "I like them."

He shot her a disbelieving look, leaning on the piano as he flipped through the book. "You like 'The Vagabond?'"

"It's fine." Kate tapped the right pedal absently with her toe, leaning over the keyboard from her seat.

"It's the baritone national anthem of boring."

"It's - " She shook her head, frustrated. Trying to pin down repertoire with Richard Castle was a study in attention deficit. They had to have gone through hundreds of songs at this point.

"What?"

She looked back up at him. He looked - curious. The petulant little-boy look was gone.

"It's the rest of the cycle." She shrugged. "It's beautiful. So I don't mind that one."

He opened his mouth, and she braced herself for whatever torrent of witty comments he was about to let loose.

But -

He just smiled, a new smile. One she hadn't seen before. It was quiet. Easy. Not his teeth-flashing, public smile. This was just warmth.

"You're right. It is beautiful."

She caught her breath, because the way he was looking at her -

"- even if it does start with the classical equivalent of the Lumberjack Song."

His eyes were sparkling, and she couldn't help the grin tugging at her mouth. She masked it with an eyeroll. Asshole.


End file.
